


Admin Privileges

by stiction



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hacking, Light Dom/sub, Pre-Necroworld, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiction/pseuds/stiction
Summary: Bypassing hardwired firewalls is an acquired skill. It takes time and trust to get into someone's core processes, and doing it without frying their circuits demands some finesse.Anode and Lug have had a lot of practice.
Relationships: Anode/Lug (Transformers)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19
Collections: Kinks in the Wires (A free 18+ Transformers weird kinks fanzine)





	Admin Privileges

“Uh-oh,” Lug said. 

“Uh-oh?” Anode repeated. “That’s the _least_ reassuring noise you could’ve made.”

“Just hold on a klik. I’ve got an error on the d-box.” 

Anode held on. System maintenance was lethally boring. The wall of their ship was in particular less than fascinating, but it was the only thing in her field of view at the moment. She stared at a loose panel and thought idly about having it reinforced at their next stop. Lug shifted on the berth behind her and Anode jumped, ship integrity forgotten as a puff of air hit her bare motherboard, an indignant crackle of electronics fading in its wake. 

“Did you just blow on my brain?” Anode hissed. She turned to glare at Lug, frag the plugs and the diagnostic box, but her helm refused to move. She tried again and got nothing, not even a single squeaking gear. Energon rushed through her protoform and warmed her plating. “Did you just _break_ my brain?!”

“No,” Lug said, sounding harried and more uncertain than Anode liked to hear. Lug approached problems with gruff determination and yelling, not hesitation. “Just sit still and let me try to—”

Anode bit back five different snappish responses and shuttered her optics, willing her frame to be calm as she listened to Lug fiddle with the box behind her. 

“There,” Lug sighed. “All good.”

Anode wanted to turn. Her limbs, normally decent and fairly cooperative limbs if she could say so herself, refused to move. She could feel them hanging heavy and limp off her chassis the way they did when Lug cut her motor controls. Her fuel pump kicked up a notch, processor torn between situationally appropriate panic and the blind, instinctive trust that pleasure was incoming. “Uh, no? Not good?”

“Not good?”

“I can’t move,” Anode said. “And not in the sexy way.”

“ _The sexy way ,_ ” Lug muttered, like she didn’t know exactly what Anode meant. “Primus. I thought—” She shifted again, checking the fit of the plugs in Anode’s helm sockets until she finally cursed and, from the sound of it, hit the diagnostic box. A zap of feedback fritzed static through Anode’s field of view. The jolt grounded in her dentae and she grunted at the vibration, at the way it pulled an entirely inappropriate charge from her lines. 

“Hey!” Anode snapped. “Maybe _don’t_ break it while I’m still plu—” 

She stopped. The armor on her thighs had unlatched and popped open. 

[INITIATE REFLEX TEST Y/N?] 

Anode denied the request. Her databanks took a hard left turn into a helpful supercut of Lug’s hands playing with the cables in her legs. 

“Slag, sorry!” Lug said. She pressed her lips to Anode’s wing, a comforting peck that fed directly into the confusion of Anode’s sensor relays. The reflexive association in her processor—Lug = good! it said, down to the last mystified circuit—tipped it right over into positive charge. Lug shifted again on the berth. “Okay,” she murmured. “Here goes. I’m just gonna…” 

Anode’s frame twitched on its own at the prod of fingers inside her helm. 

“Something’s stuck in there,” Lug said, her voice even. Forcibly even. Anode knew the tone. 

Anode shut her optics off again, grit her dentae against the sudden queued groan in her vocalizer. The raw edge of every hypersensitive copper filament screeched at the touch of Lug’s fingertips, so warm and so _conductive_. When she brushed against some unknown module, the stiffness in Anode’s frame left her and she slumped back into the vee of Lug’s lap. Background processes and dignity forgotten, her processor raced to find an appropriate outlet for the chaos. 

_Oh no_ , Anode thought as her panel snapped open. It was bad timing and in bad taste even if her shaking frame disagreed. She reached to close it, but only her elbow moved and that was just a twitch of hydraulics while her hand remained unresponsive, uncooperative. Even if she could’ve closed it, the next nudge inside her helm resensitized her frame with a tinny pop in her audials. 

The places her plating met Lug’s burned as she coasted down from the surge. Heat pooled in her array, her spike already hard and her biolights blazing. Her wings clattered where they were trapped against Lug’s chassis, unable to complete the incoherent ‘yes _hello_ beautiful’ wingtalk sequence spiraling around her processor as the temperature ticked up and up. 

“Lug,” she tried to say, but her processor, more concerned with the conflicting motor controls, said: “01001100 01110101 01100111.”

“I know,” Lug said, nonsensically, “I’m sorry, I know, it’s—” Her voice was thin and the hand on the back of Anode’s neck was vise-tight as the other reached deeper, pushed circuit boards out of alignment.

Pain seared sharp through the daze. Anode bucked, not her own motion but the instinct to flee, only Lug’s legs slung around her waist holding her firm. 

“There,” Lug said. Hot air was drenching Anode’s wings, the current strong enough that they twitched again in an attempt to orient to a jetstream that didn’t exist. Anode focused on the cycle of Lug’s fans as her frame hummed, cables jumping. “I’m gonna disconnect you.”

She floated, still in the dark as Lug fiddled briefly with the diagnostic box. There was a dull thocking sound as each plug was pulled free, and then Lug snapped her helm cover shut. 

“You okay?” she asked, voice soft as her hands stroking the base of Anode’s wings. “You had a bit of metal jammed between two chips. Probably been there since the last stop on Troja Major.” She flicked an aileron. “That’s why we need to do regular maintenance, you slob.”

Anode managed to online her optics. Her helm was still lolled forward, leaving her staring down at her open thighs and leaking spike. She couldn’t quite see her valve but she could feel the heady pulse of energon through the mesh. Her helm sort of ached, but it was firmly in the background of her concerns. 

“01001100 01110101 01100111,” she said again, vocalizer strained, as she reached for Lug’s hand. She moved slow, halting, but the free movement of her arm was an incalculable relief. Lug moved to meet her, gripped her hand tight. Anode reset her translator, clearing the static, and tried again. 

Lug’s name came out in binary spit. Another swell of charge rolled through Anode’s frame at the press of Lug’s face into her neck. This close, she felt the moment it arced between their frames in the small, shocked noise that Lug made. She couldn’t believe Lug hadn’t felt it earlier but Lug had the ability to block out distractions in times of crisis instead of getting so far into her own head that she just circled and circled and—and— “01101001 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100,” Anode said, even as Lug shifted and eased her down to the berth. One hand still cradled the back of her helm, the other tight on her hip. 

Her wings beat into the blanket, crawling with excess energy. 

She wanted to say _Lug, please_ and she wanted to say _I need_ but her processor swung wildly between output modes and in the end she only reached for Lug’s forearm to tug her forward. 

“Alright, alright,” Lug said, vocalizer weak, grinning the way she only did when they narrowly escaped death. “I’m coming. I know you’ve got some interesting sweet spots, but I gotta admit, I didn’t expect processor damage to be one of them.” 

Her warmth between Anode’s legs, so close to her array that her EM field made the internals of her legs prickle, turned the binary grind of Anode’s voice into a halting whine. 

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” A shaky laugh rattled out of Lug as her optics raked down Lug’s frame. “I’ve got you. Open up.”

Anode waved her hands weakly on either side of her lap. 

“I _see_ that. I meant here.” Lug tapped the cover of Anode’s femoral port, a handspan above her open thigh armor. “You’re still pretty scrambled, and I’d rather not try to turn this tin can into a high-speed cruiser if you start glitching hardcore. It’s still two cycles to the nearest developed planet.”

Anode had to dig for the proper command string. Lug sat there and watched, thumbing the head of her unspooled jack as she waited. She edged forward once Anode wrangled her coding into submission, the buzz of her jack on the edge of Anode’s port sending another scream of data through Anode’s frame. It was worse when Lug at last plugged in. The rush of charge bottlenecked at the interface before some of it bled off through Lug’s cable and Anode’s frame sagged in momentary relief. 

Lug’s optics flared, her mouth dropping open with a soft exhalation: “Sweet Solus Prime. That’s… There’s a lot happening here.”

 _so am i dying or what_ , Anode thought once the connection stabilized. _because if i’m not dying of a junked processor i might die if i don’t get fragged in the next five kliks_.

Lug made a face. “You’re not dying. At least I’m pretty sure you’re not dying. I’m gonna have to poke around your helm a little more later and we’re _definitely_ finding a medic at our next port stop, but I think it might fry your processor if I try to realign anything while you’re this charged up.”

_so... until then?_

Lug put on her best poker face as she ran her thumb up the curve of Anode’s spike. “What do _you_ think?”

Anode bit back her smile, shifting deeper into the blankets on the berth. 

“You got access to your running lights?” 

Did she? It took a nanoklik to find them, but Anode dove into the command strings around her reward systems and pulsed the lights on her chassis twice. Anode had a pretty good idea of where things were going if Lug wanted her lights working, and she wanted to get there fast. 

“Good,” Lug said, tugging lightly on her cable so that Anode let out a mangled curse as the jack caught and held, her hips jerking up to ease the pressure. 

The data burst Anode uploaded was only partially coherent and comprised mostly of image captures of Lug’s hands fastening enforcer-grade restraints around Anode’s wrists, but Lug shifted closer against her nonetheless, pinned her spike against her chassis and pulled again on the hardline. This time the charge it let off was heavy as a full data packet and pulsed in the sore edges of Anode’s processor. 

“Gonna let me in, then?” Lug teased. 

Anode didn’t bother holding out. She dropped her firewalls at the slight nudge of Lug’s presence in her mind. The one-way connection always left Lug a vague shape. With all the practice that it had taken practice for Lug to get so far into her processor that she had core system permission, Anode’s mind recognized her on such a spark-deep, strut-deep level that she remained unmistakable. They did two-way hardlining sometimes, when the days were long and energy levels low and all that was within reach was a lazy, spiraling shared overload that would fade into dreamless connected recharge, but that was complicated. For Anode, mostly. To slot into Lug’s mind and feel all that warmth and care and love up-front. She normally went off like a depth charge in two kliks if they both plugged in and went at it fully-fueled and awake, and then was left a shaking, emotional mess by the time Lug caught up and tipped her into a second overload with her own release.

Like this, though, it was easier. She didn’t get too much off of Lug, only offered up the core of herself on a silver platter and let herself be pulled open. 

She reached for Lug’s hips and was swatted away. Lug’s hand went to her spike again and gave a quick squeeze. Anode grinned at the flush of pleasure, made that much stronger by the sudden keen tilt of Lug’s smile as the feeling of her poking around Anode’s base coding intensified. 

“Whatever glitched in your motor controls is still kinda fragged,” Lug said. “I can’t turn them off. So I’m gonna have to trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

 _yes yes yes i will_ , Anode agreed.

“Good,” Lug said again, in the way that made Anode’s processor light up like a festival. She smiled like she could feel it, too. “Turn your optics off.” 

Anode hesitated. Her gaze moved from Lug’s face to her strong, flat shoulders, the overlapped plating of her chassis. She wanted to touch, Primus she wanted to touch every inch of sturdy plating within arm’s reach, but Lug tended to get snippy when Anode disobeyed orders she had already agreed to. 

Speaking of: “Turn them off,” Lug said. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Anode shivered, staring hopefully up at her. 

“Oh, for the love of—” 

There was a face Lug made when she was about to do something fantastic and tricky with hardlines, and there it was, the tip of her tongue poking out between her dentae. And then it was gone. Some component in Anode’s helm clicked at the override as her field of view went dark, but it was pointless. Her firewalls were down, processor shifting around the shape of Lug’s probing. There was only a tight bundle of data that Lug couldn’t access: Spark containment procedures, the tie from the running lights on Anode’s chassis to her reward systems, and a compressed memory module that Anode’s cautious programming automatically glossed over when Lug was plugged in. Lug had, to be fair in all things, offered Anode the same, but when merely jacking in to Lug’s frame threatened to crash Anode, gaining system permission was a lot to ask of her. 

Besides, Anode thought. Lug liked being in charge. She liked to boss. Anode liked to _be_ bossed, at least in the berth. Liked to get turned inside-out with whatever clever code trick Lug picked up from the planets they stopped at. 

With her optics offline, Anode dialed her audials in further. She probably wouldn’t be in charge of her auxiliary programs much longer, but it was nice to be able to hear the steady whirr of Lug’s fans. Maybe if she was good, Lug would do that thing with her charge capacitors. They hadn’t had time between jumps lately, the ‘facing all factory-standard fragging, but sweet Solus the thought of Lug sitting smug next to Anode as she systematically redlined each nexus on Anode’s sensory relay, tricking them into thinking there were a hundred dextrous hands manipulating her frame—

The berth creaked faintly before Lug’s mouth landed on hers. Anode cranked her vents wide, straining to avoid arching into the pressure of Lug’s chassis so compact and strong above her own. She parted her lips, her vocalizer crackling a groan as Lug licked into her mouth. Her hands twitched at her sides, gripping at the blankets. Oh, it would be over quickly, but she wanted it, wanted Lug. 

Lug pulled away and said, sounding dazed: “I’m clamping the cerebral string now, okay?” 

Anode flashed her lights twice and was rewarded by a fond hand on her chassis. 

Then there was a hot, wobbling moment in her helm and Anode became a thing that existed only in the present tense. 

Beneath her there was the berth, firm but softened by layers that cushioned her shifting wings and faded to the awareness of solidity at her back. Her gyroscopic balance held just barely at the prickling sensation that swept through her. Sensors reported gibberish. She was hot _and_ cold, her joints at risk of overexertion, the heavy thrum of her engines rattling her armor. 

Systems received conflicting orders. The core of her, locked in her spark chamber and cut off from any logical cortex, existed outside of the chaos and knew only the heightening swell of electrical excess that jammed her fuel lines. It flared with the overspill and lashed at the metal of its chamber. Noise came from her malfunctioning vocalizer, unintelligible and rewarded by a sudden weight over her chassis, a wash of warmth and tensing pressure from her manual array. 

A question came down the line from a null source and the neatly coded program attached to her reward system ran a quick analysis, called the whole thing a net positive, and rerouted a little charge to the lights on her chassis. Even the muted buzz of electrons through filament sent a tingle of pleasure back down the line. 

Her audials rang with input that, unparsable, still triggered a flutter of fondness. Light taps littered her chassis in counterpoint to a growing pressure in her protoform. It pulled her taut to the point of needling pain and then dulled with the ping of relaxing cables. Warmth built steadily in her manual array and in the waterfall of her lit-up sensor relays. The nudging in her processor grew stronger, coding pushed aside until a string was seized, and _pulled_.

There was a lull in the noise. Her fans choked on the heat and froze mid-cycle. The cadence of her fuel pump fell, the energon in her veins slowing until the sensory nodes under her plating sent unreadable signals back to her processor, said _danger!_ and started the glacial process of atrophy. She held there, waiting for something even as the weight over her rocked, slow but now gaining speed as her fuel pump also did, past its steady baseline rhythm and shooting straight to the rate for prolonged flight. Data flooded her sensory array once again, gathered in sensitive pockets and kicked her internal temperature higher than her fans could offset. 

She had a single shocked moment at the precipice before her charge crested into something white hot that seized her spark and shook it in its chamber. The scrambled feedback translation settled on _good_ and held there as her frame popped with sparks, backstrut a singing arch as the energy dissipated. Some of it bled off through a chokepoint, her femoral port aching with the heavy transfer. It left her limp. The programming that had picked through her processor retreated, nudging her into a soft reboot as systems permissions were passed back to her one by one.

* * *

The first thing Anode felt as she rose out of the digital snow was Lug’s steady touch wiping her chassis down. Her optics came back online with a little work, though it took a moment for her vision to calibrate before she was able to make out the open subspace hatch on Lug’s flank, a neat stack of mesh cloths threatening to tip out. Her hand reached out to thumb the hatch closed and stayed to hook around the edge of an armor plate.

“Hey,” she croaked. “Oh! Nice. You overloaded me hard enough to fix my voice.”

Lug spared her a fond glance before she wrapped up the task at hand, tucking the soiled cloth into the bin at the berthside and settling in at Anode’s side. “You’re welcome.” 

“Mmm. Thank you, then. That was great.” Anode melted into the gentle stroke of Lug’s thumb over her waist. “I always kinda forget overloads are a thing once you cut the thinking off, and then it just— _kaboom_. Lays me out.”

“I know,” Lug said, sounding halfway to recharge already. Anode wasn’t far behind. “You tell me that every time.”

“Oh, sorry. S’just always surprising to have actual thoughts again. Gotta let ‘em out.” She tightened the loop of her arms around Lug’s frame, and had another barely coherent thought. “Plug me in. Wanna recharge with you.”

Lug, grumbling, managed to get Anode’s jack into her port. Her firewalls were low with exhaustion and Anode slid smoothly into the empty spaces. 

It was warm. Safe. 

It held her as she fell into recharge, listening to the hum of the ship.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my piece for [Kinks in the Wires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966062), a Transformers zine for out-of-the-ordinary kinkfics. please go take a look, the zine is beautiful and the fanworks are top-notch!
> 
> i'm hoping to add some more to this in the future because i love them and they get up to some STUFF to be sure


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